


Cloak

by Fluffifullness



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Blindness, Durarara!! Kink Meme, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:44:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffifullness/pseuds/Fluffifullness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shizuo shakes his head. “Izaya,” he groans. “I can’t <em>see</em>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloak

**Author's Note:**

> I really do write things that aren't PWP! No, really - I just haven't done so in - ah - a while... (And, of course, this is another fill for the [kink meme](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/6253.html?thread=22594413#t22594413) on LJ.)

Orihara Izaya is bored.

His Shizu-chan is late, after all. He should have returned home to his apartment hours ago, should have had plenty of time by now to finish work, go drinking, throw some things, whatever. Izaya doesn’t particularly care what Shizuo does when they’re not having sex – just as long as it doesn’t get in the way of the informant’s plotting – but when it infringes upon their occasional trysts – well, that’s a problem.

Not that Izaya is worried about the brute, of course. He can take care of himself just fine.

The informant’s just annoyed by the sheer irresponsibility of forcing a guest to wait so long for a quick lay.

He busies himself first with rifling through the blonde’s small apartment – drawers, cupboards, even under the bed – but he’s already seen pretty much everything that’s there to see, and he returns to irritated restlessness quickly. He makes his way into the kitchen, opens the refrigerator and, finding a few containers of pudding, settles for eating that in front of the TV.

The informant has just finished off his second cup of smooth chocolate and vanilla – boredom setting in as he finally resorts to rehearsing the complaints he intends to present to the blonde when he decides to show up – when a hesitant knock at the door interrupts his leisurely time-wasting.

Izaya debates answering. Shizuo isn’t the most intelligent, after all, but the informant’s pretty sure he wouldn’t bother knocking to get into his own place. He doesn’t feel like getting caught up in anything annoying at the moment – no neighbors wondering what his relationship to Shizuo is, no salesmen or religious missionaries.

Of course… Shizuo knows that Izaya’s here – or he should, anyway – and he might have forgotten his keys…

The knocking repeats, louder now, and Izaya sighs as he rises to his feet and pads his way over to answer it.

To say that he’s surprised by the sight that greets him would be an incredible understatement.

It _is_ Shizu-chan – uniform dirt-smeared, eyes wide and staring Shizu-chan. He says nothing for a while – just stares past Izaya with his brow furrowed in discomfort as he uses the palm of his right hand to support himself against the doorframe. He looks tired, nervous, almost-but-not-quite panicked.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya acknowledges after a moment. He tries to recall one of his many rehearsed speeches and finds that he can’t. “…You’re late.”

Shizuo raises his eyebrows and then lets his held breath go with a soft _whoosh_. “Yeah.” His expression has changed suddenly to one of exhausted relief.

“Are you an idiot? Don’t tell me you actually lost a fight or something.”

Shizuo frowns. “Somethin’ like that. Flea” – he hesitates, his free hand coming up to tug at his shirt where it hides the bare skin of his chest and his heart beating regularly beneath that – “I need your help.”

Izaya would have smirked. He almost does, but the look on Shizuo’s face is just wrong. Actually, it’s the flatness of it, the way everything but his eyes reflects what he’s feeling. “Oh~? And what can I do for Shizu-chan? Just so you know, you already owe me plenty more than just our usual bout.”

“How’s that?”

“I’ve been waiting for hours,” Izaya complains. “Can’t you even tell what time it is?”

Shizuo shakes his head. “Izaya,” he groans. “I can’t _see_.”

 

~

 

“You can’t – what, you mean you’ve gone blind?” Izaya laughs. “That doesn’t just happen, Shizu-chan. And what am _I_ supposed to do about it?”

Shizuo goes quiet for a moment, lets his eyes fall shut and works to slow his breathing. “Thought you might know something. They had a weird drug…”

“‘They?’” Izaya says it with a newfound interest glinting in his eyes. Who’d have thought that he’d ever be getting valuable information from Shizu-chan – of all people?

“Yes,” Shizuo growls impatiently. “Look, can we at least go inside? It smells like rain.”

Shizuo always did have a freakish sense of smell. Izaya doesn’t bother hiding his amused grin as he opens the door wider to let the blonde brush past him and into the apartment. The door clicks shut noisily, and Shizuo jumps slightly before bowing his head and sighing more deeply.

“So?”

“So what, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo grits his teeth perturbedly. “Do you know anything, or not?”

Izaya returns to his comfortable place on Shizuo’s sofa. The blonde follows the sound of rustling fabric and clumsily manages to take a seat beside the informant. “Let me get this straight, first. You were attacked… and whoever did it actually managed to force some kind of drug on _you?_ ” _And then you walked all the way back here like that?_

“It was a needle,” Shizuo explains. “I was – um, _am_ – a little drunk, so I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Izaya’s grin widens. It’s adorable, the blonde’s obvious attempt at protecting his fragile ego. “Which means that you didn’t actually see anyone’s face?”

“Flea,” Shizuo warns quietly. “Aren’t you just trying to drag some information out of me?”

“Why not?” Izaya mutters as he crosses his arms on his chest in one of his classic pouts.

Shizuo closes his eyes again. He looks almost sad, his lips angled downward at the corners and yet another sigh filling the ensuing silence. Then – “No, they got me from behind. I passed out for a while. Just woke up, and – y’know… It took me a while to walk here.”

“That’s alarmingly un-helpful information, Shizu-chan.”

“Well, excuse me,” the blonde growls. He runs his fingers through his already-messy blonde hair, then adds, “You probably don’t give a shit about what happens to me, anyway, so why don’t you just go home?”

Izaya shifts on the couch so that he’s facing Shizuo directly. “I don’t think so,” he says firmly.

Shizuo snorts. “What, you worried?”

Izaya responds first with a short laugh. “No, of course not. I just want what I came here for.”

The blonde’s eyes widen. “Hell no,” he hisses.

“Ah, don’t be like that. I waited so long, just for you!”

“Not while my eyes are like this,” Shizuo insists, but he doesn’t immediately move away when Izaya’s hand finds its way to his crotch.

“I’ll guide you through it.” Izaya offers with a mischievous grin.

Shizuo catches his breath as the informant brushes his lips against the blonde’s. He can almost taste a hint of chocolate pudding clinging to Izaya’s lower lip, and he can’t help the alcohol-induced tingling that comes with the not-quite-enough contact.

“Fine,” he accepts reluctantly, “but you have to promise to fix this later.”

 

~

 

Izaya takes Shizuo by the hand and leads him into the bedroom. The blonde walks slowly, so that Izaya actually has to tug at him to keep him going, and his head is bowed in a weak attempt at hiding the blush adorning his cheeks.

“Undress,” Izaya says as soon as the door clicks shut behind them. “It’ll make things easier for both of us.” Usually, of course, Izaya would make good use of his switchblade, and Shizuo of his strength. Who knows how many outfits they’ve already ruined on nights like this – but it’s fine, really, because for them that degree of roughness is best.

Shizuo hesitates. “‘Kay…” He unbuttons his vest first, lets it drop to the ground and then proceeds to tug the white dress shirt up and over his head. Izaya watches him hungrily, the darkening flush of his cheeks and his eyes wide and blank.

The blonde finally pauses with his hands on his belt buckle. “You’d better be doing the same, flea,” he growls.

Izaya laughs and slips his black V-neck off. “Sure,” he purrs.

Shizuo looks doubtful but accepts the informant’s statement nevertheless. He finishes undressing before Izaya does and stands uncertainly in the middle of the floor, the fingers of his left hand toying uneasily with the blonde of his hair.

He gives a start when Izaya reaches forward to take his hand in his own. “Come on, big guy,” the informant teases. “You can start by relaxing a bit.”

“Shut up,” Shizuo breathes as he’s guided down onto the bed. “Let’s just get this over with quickly.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Izaya murmurs into the shuddering curve of Shizuo’s neck. “Of course we’ll be taking our time tonight.”

Shizuo groans softly, but it quickly becomes more of a moan when Izaya shifts down to suck at the hardening pink of the blonde’s nipples – first his tongue, and then teeth scraping the slick surface as the rise and fall of Shizuo’s breathing becomes almost feverish.

His knee digging into Shizuo’s groin is hardly an accident, either, and the blonde bites back a little whimper as his cock grows increasingly hard beneath Izaya.

“Admit that you like this,” Izaya purrs into his companion’s ear. “Feeling a bit vulnerable, that is.”

“I could turn you into – ngh – a smear on the wall right now if I – ahh – if I wanted to,” Shizuo pants. His eyes are only half-open, his lips parted to drag more air into his aching lungs. Izaya takes advantage of his near-delirium to nibble at the soft corner of Shizuo’s earlobe. The blonde shivers and pulls his eyes the rest of the way shut – probably trying to hide the tears rising at their corners, Izaya guesses.

“I doubt it, Shizu-chan.”

The informant rolls his hips forward so that his and Shizuo’s arousals are tantalizingly close, lets Shizuo register every little spark of sensation as his hand closes about both of them. The blonde gasps and bucks into the touch, his cock twitching in response to the closeness and the heat as his toes dig into the sheets beneath him.

“Admit it,” Izaya prompts again, and Shizuo opens his eyes just barely enough that the brown is visible under silver moonlight, framed by pale skin glinting under a thin sheen of sweat.

“Yeah,” Shizuo grunts. “Fine.”

“I’ll need a bit more than that,” Izaya murmurs. He nips at the blonde’s neck – bites down, leaves a mark – and Shizuo reaches hesitantly up to grip Izaya’s shoulders. The informant smirks in response to the blonde’s too-cautious hold on him and lets careful fingers travel up his neck to cup his face like a full glass of water.

Shizuo hesitates. “You were going to tell me what to do.”

“Oh? How docile of you, Shizu-chan! Now you _want_ me to boss you around?”

The blonde frowns and takes his revenge in the form of lips crushed together, teeth and tongues and strings of saliva. Izaya moans into the kiss and reaches down to press his thumb into the head of Shizuo’s erection. The blonde’s lips trace the shape of what is most likely some very choice language, then breaks the kiss and lets Izaya climb off of him.

“Sit up,” Izaya says breathlessly. Shizuo does, albeit with a maddening slowness, and Izaya takes his nemesis’s right hand in his own. He moves it so that it rests on the informant’s chest – his heart hammering away beneath the blonde’s fingers – and whispers, “Not as fast as yours, ne?”

Shizuo’s eyes widen. The contact is too tender for them, too unlike any of their chases, vending machine-throwing and knives flashing. He looks more confused than ever, but his fingers remain splayed on Izaya’s chest even after the informant retrieves his own hand.

“Over a bit,” Izaya breathes after a long moment. Shizuo continues to look completely bewildered for several beats – and then he registers the smaller man’s intention, pushes him back onto the bed and slides his hand gingerly across Izaya’s chest. He has to bite back his own moaning as his fingers find the sensitive rise of his rival’s nipples, as he pinches them both between each thumb and forefinger. He gives them a quick and painful sideways twist, then rolls them back and forth for another minute or so.

Izaya’s cock throbs in response to that, especially, and his voice grows louder with his next instructions – “Shizu – chan – annhh – l-lubricant – _now._ ”

Shizuo’s hands leave him suddenly – _let him fumble around for it,_ Izaya thinks – and the informant takes the opportunity to catch his breath. Propping himself up on his elbows and glancing over at Shizuo – hand repeatedly just missing the bottle where it rests on the lonely bedside table – Izaya grins and finally reaches forward to guide the other’s hand onto the smooth plastic.

“Damn flea,” Shizuo mutters, his voice husky.

Izaya shushes him with a kiss and his hands on the blonde’s hips. “Prep me,” he says simply.

Shizuo’s blush deepens, but he only nods and squeezes a generous amount of lubricant onto his fingers. His touch cold, he removes Izaya’s hands from his hips and guides the informant onto his hands and knees. To Izaya, it seems that the blonde is going out of his way to touch more than should be strictly necessary – the curve of the informant’s shoulder, his shoulder blades and the entire length of his spine.

His hands feel that much colder to someone whose skin is practically on fire already.

Izaya nearly jumps out of his skin when Shizuo finally finds his entrance. The blonde’s breathing is ragged behind Izaya, his hand shaking as it circles the ring of muscle and then finally teases its way inside. Izaya gasps, shudders, and Shizuo quietly suggests that he relax.

“Same to you,” Izaya groans. Shizuo is obviously nearing his own limits, after all, and Izaya doesn’t relish being looked down on by the guy who couldn’t even bear the thought of having sex without the benefit of sight.

And still the blonde pushes the digit in slowly – wiggles it about and exhales as if he were laughing when Izaya mewls impatiently. He gets it in all the way to the knuckle, scrapes the smooth pad against Izaya’s prostate and then yanks it back as Izaya bucks under him.

His other hand cups Izaya’s left cheek – pulls it back so that his hole is that much more accessible – and he adds another finger  alongside the first one. Izaya’s breathing hitches in synch with every scissoring motion, and his mouth fills with saliva that spills over onto his cheek and neck.

“E-enough,” Izaya whimpers. “Sh –Shizu-chan, fuck me – nahh – now, _now…!”_

Shizuo grunts, pulls his hand away and eases Izaya forward so that he’s resting at a slant on his forearms. Izaya waits impatiently – ass raised expectantly, every muscle tensed and eager, he knows how ridiculous he must look and thus can’t help but silently thank chance for solving _that_ problem for him.

“Izaya,” Shizuo starts awkwardly. The informant wants to shout at him to shut up, to get moving, but he substitutes a mangled grunt of acknowledgement for anything that might make him sound as desperate as he feels.

“I-if it hurts… _bad_ – uhm, just say so.”

“H-how nice of Shizu-chan to worry about me. Can we get on with this, then?”

Shizuo hesitates for only another fraction of a second, and the sudden addition of the so-so-much that the blonde always is knocks all of the air completely from Izaya’s lungs. He moans loudly into the pillow in front of him, feeling then as if every inch of him belongs to Shizuo, to the part of Shizuo filling and moving inside of him.

Shizuo’s breath catches – and stays caught – in his throat as he pulls out only enough to adjust his angle before crashing back onto Izaya’s prostate. They’re both breathless, then, and there is very little resembling a lull to let them take any air from the space surrounding them. The rhythm is as chaotic as ever, and Izaya winds up blindly fucking back onto the blonde’s cock in the hopes of burying it just a little deeper, of adding just a little to the euphoria that is already washing over him in waves.

It’s a bit different this time, though. Shizuo is more careful, more conscious of his own incredible strength and the tightness of his hands curling about the informant’s pelvis. Izaya doesn’t – _can’t_ – speculate much right then, but he assumes in some deep, dark, unrecognized portion of his mind that the blonde is doing his best to avoid harming the informant more seriously than he normally does. Because he can’t see the damage, the little cringing motions and flutterings of passion-addled discomfort in his partner.

It’s adorable.

The thought is clear and somehow loud in Izaya’s mind, and his walls tighten about Shizuo before he can even consider resisting. He shudders from head to toe and stifles a yell with a fist in his mouth as his cum completely soaks the bed beneath him. Shizuo groans loudly somewhere above him and fills him with something else entirely – hot, sticky jets of cum and a final, especially violent thrust that all but bruises the informant’s prostate.

Shizuo waits for Izaya to tell him to back out, then does so promptly as his breathing gradually slows to a quick in-and-out of mouth-still-watering, legs-like-jelly. He helps Izaya onto his back and feels around for a clean space to lie down on.

“Remember your promise,” he mumbles in that long afterglow. Izaya rolls over to face him and finds his hair ruffled, eyes dark, cheeks still red. He looks incredible in the way that only Shizu-chan ever can.

The informant hums a little yes and moves just a bit closer to the blonde. They don’t usually do anything as ridiculous as cuddling – or even, really, speaking – in the moments after a climax, but this occasion is different in many other ways, as well. It’s an excusable infraction.

“You should consider going blind more often, Shizu-chan,” Izaya teases. He means it as a compliment, and Shizuo accepts it with a grin that is only slightly miffed.

“You should learn to give better directions,” the blonde murmurs as his arms close about his slender companion. The hug isn’t _exactly_ unwelcome in spite of the sweat soaking both of them from head to toe, and Izaya leans into it. He doesn’t even complain about Shizuo’s chin resting on his head – as if he were _that_ much smaller than the blonde. Ha!

“I just assumed that because you’re a monster, you’d be able to handle it using nothing more than base instinct.”

Shizuo tightens his hold on Izaya but doesn’t appear to be particularly angry. “Maybe. You’re not hurt, are you?”

“You’ve never cared about that in the past, have you?”

Shizuo fidgets – suddenly uncomfortable – and explains, “I don’t wanna kill you by mistake.”

Oh, how kind of him. He must prefer the prospect of doing it intentionally and in broad daylight.

“By the way, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says at length. “I actually do know a bit about the drug they gave you. It’s temporary. You’ll probably be able to see fine by morning.”

The informant barely manages to slip away to hide in some dark corner of the blonde’s apartment before a very pissed off Shizuo can manage to get his hands on him.


End file.
